


Complex

by pkmntrainer_alex



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Clumsiness, Coffee Shops, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25154929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkmntrainer_alex/pseuds/pkmntrainer_alex
Summary: Niji manages to get Nami to agree to meet up with him for coffee following their last encounter.
Relationships: Nami/Vinsmoke Niiji
Kudos: 8





	Complex

**Author's Note:**

> \- This takes place after my 'Proof' fic but it doesn't quite fit in with that series, so I did not include it there.  
> \- This is also a precursor to another, separate piece. Coming soon!  
> -Edited a bit because none of my text formatting carried over for some reason

"I didn't think you'd agree to meet with me."

Nami leaned back in her chair, arms back behind her head. She'd unbuttoned her dark blue coat before sitting down, revealing an undone cardigan and low-cut shirt. Niji could see the delicate skin of her cleavage peeking through the dip in her shirt. Ever provocative, even in the winter. "I considered telling you to go fuck yourself," she teased, tossing her long orange hair back with a wink. "I already got what I wanted from you anyway. But I have such a soft spot for your brother…"

Snickering, Niji took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't really coffee, mostly whipped cream, ground ice, and caramel sugar syrup - loaded with caffeine. He took a deep inhale of his scent, trying to block out the heavy smell of spice and evergreen that seemed to saturate the air inside the cafe. "I don't think Sanji would approve of me being anywhere near you."

Nami giggled, a mischievous sound that brought a smile to his lips. "It's cute you think I mean Sanji." She leaned forward to slip her straw into her mouth, pressing her breasts forward subtly with her forearms. Subtle, but impossible for Niji to miss. "You're right. He would hate this if he could see it."

“Which brother could you mean, then?” Niji didn’t like the edge in his voice, a sharpness he couldn’t control. He grabbed at his drink, fingers sliding on the condensation as it nearly slipped right out of his hand and sideways onto the table. The lid burst off, and a sludgelike wave of brown washed across the table, with small wisps of whipped cream dotting its surface.

Smirking, Nami handed Niji a handful of crumpled napkins from the dispenser as his face went darker and darker, growling swears under his breath as it sloshed over the edge, spilling onto his lap. It soaked into his lap, chilling his skin in an instant and turning the black fabric an ugly, mottled color. “ _Very_ smooth.”

“Shut up,” Niji snapped, snatching the napkins out of her hands and throwing them down over what was pooling onto the table. Nami calmly reached over, eyebrows raised, and set his cup upright. He mopped up as much as he could, throwing the disintegrating napkins into the now mostly-empty cup, ignoring the mess on his pants. There was little he could do about it.

Nami leaned back in her seat, watching him struggle with a smile on her face. Taking another sip of her own drink, she pointed to the ever-spreading stain on his pants as he stood up to grab more napkins. “You missed a spot,” she chimed, in the most falsely sweet voice he’d heard in a good while.

Niji bit his tongue hard, not trusting himself to respond in a pleasant manner. The last thing he wanted to do was _completely_ ruin this little meetup of theirs. After all, their first two had resulted in such a memorable evening together back at his place. He still had the photos. He turned away, seething at his own clumsiness.

“The bathrooms are over there,” Nami indicated the corner of the cramped little coffee shop, past the mismatched wooden tables and chairs, all mostly empty. The barista had her back to them, engrossed in a chalkboard menu that usual sat on the sidewalk off front. He could see badly drawn doodles of reindeer and bells, symbols of the impending holiday. He _hated_ the holidays. “I’m really hoping you don’t need help.”

“I’d accept it if it was being offered,” Niji commented off-handedly, blotting napkins at his pants and pulling them away once they were saturated. Now, in addition to the discolored stain, there was plenty of white crumbling lint from the napkins. Fantastic.

Nami laughed, and took another drink. She studied him with her warm brown eyes, and Niji could count every single eyelash as he watched her back. “I’m not offering. Go clean yourself up.”

It was certainly worth a shot. Grumbling to himself as he hunched over to hide the stain, Niji stomped off to the bathroom. It was clean enough, a cramped space with two stalls and floor to ceiling tile, and obnoxious holiday music was already being piped in by tinny speakers mounted in the upper corners of the room. Niji stopped in front of the mirror, examining the stain. It spread width-wise from pocket to pocket, a muddy brown on what had been smooth and spotless black. Niji watched his expression change from frustration to outright anger in the mirror, and he was struck by an urge to shatter the whole thing. What did _he_ know about getting stains out, and in a bathroom no less? This was what household servants were for.

The door swung open unexpectedly, and Niji spun around to find Nami strolling into the men’s bathroom as though she belonged there. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and a half smile played softly on her lips. This was his chance, surely. Flashing her a grin, he tried to compose himself as he leaned against the sink. “Changed your mind, hm?”

Nami laughed, again, and Niji conceded that she had a very pretty laugh indeed. Usually, he found the laughs of other people annoyed him. “Only about helping you. You’re hopeless...just like Sanji. Must be a Vinsmoke thing.” She thumbed over at the empty stalls. “Take your pants off and hand them to me under the door. I can’t completely fix it but I can make the stain not as bad.”

“I can take them off right here.”

“Stall or I’m leaving you looking like you have a giant shit stain on your pants.”

“Bitch.” The word spilled out before Niji could stop it, or even consider stopping it, but Nami only responded with more laughs. Feeling slightly embarrassed - both at his slip of the tongue and awkward predicament - Niji shuffled past her towards the stalls, inhaling her sweet citrusy scent. She smelled of summer and sunshine, a perfect antidote for the cold. He closed himself into one of the stalls and struggled to get out of his pants, his lanky legs proving a hindrance as he smashed his knees against the confining metal walls.

From under the door, Niji could see Nami’s jeans-clad legs and high-heeled boots waiting on the other side, one foot tapping impatiently. “Don’t think I’m going to come in and help you take your pants off just because you act like you’re incompetent at that too,” she warned him, a slight pinch of teasing in her voice.

Niji was glad she couldn’t see him as his face flushed, and he grunted in response. After a brief struggle, he shoved his pants at her from beneath the door, ignoring the forgotten coins that rained out of his pockets and made loud clinking noises as they hit the tile and rolled away. To his relief, at least Nami didn’t laugh that time. She walked towards the sink, and he peeked through the thin crack where the door met the wall of the stall. Her long, richly orange hair cascaded nicely down her back, forming soft waves where it lay, and the snug fit of her jeans nicely accentuated her hips and ass. He felt another smile as he thought back to the first time he’d peeled those off of her…

“Stop staring at my ass.” She turned on the tap of the sink, and the loud flow of the water echoed in the confines of the bathroom, drowning out the obnoxious Christmas carols. Niji could see his pant legs dangling off the edge of the basin as Nami worked at the stain under the water.

“Aren’t we bold, assuming I’m staring at your ass.”

“You and your brothers are _exactly_ the same. I know you’re staring at my ass.” Nami chuckled, bringing her hand to the soap dispenser and pumping a few splashes into her hand. Immediately, it filled the air with an artificial melon smell that was both overpowering and unpleasant.

Niji felt his shoulders tense up at the accusation. “We’re not all the same,” he snapped back, wondering if he was really in a position to argue, huddled pantsless in a coffee shop bathroom. “I am nothing like those idiots.”

“Idiots, huh?” Nami’s response was dry, and Niji expected no less. Her hair swung against her shoulders as she put her back into rubbing out the stain, and it was oddly comforting to watch. “I figured you’d think Sanji is an idiot. Didn’t know your inferiority complex extended to the others.”

 _“Inferiority complex?”_ Niji tried to keep his voice down, but the anger he’d barely contained after spilling his drink was bubbling back to the top again, white-hot and wild. Seldom did anyone dare speak to him in such a way, let alone some friend of Sanji’s - regardless of what a good lay she happened to be. “You’d better watch your mouth or -”

“Or you’ll fuck it?” Nami turned back around and shot a wink right at where he was watching from inside the stall, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a pout. He was fond of her, to a degree, but did not like how well she read him. She pressed the button for the hand dryer, holding his pants directly beneath the loud roar of hot air that rushed out as she turned her face away. When Niji didn’t respond, she let out an almost disappointed sigh. “God, did you and your brothers swap lines? That _can’t_ be normal.”

“They’re unoriginal morons who try to emulate me,” Niji insisted, knowing there wasn’t the slightest chance in hell that she would believe him.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Inferiority Complex.” As the hand dryer abruptly switched back off, leaving the bathroom almost ringingly quiet once again aside from Nami’s heels on the tile as she walked back, handing Niji his pants from under the door again. Still boiling internally and biting his tongue so hard he could taste blood, Niji remained silent. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“What?” Niji unclenched his jaw, and could taste metal in his mouth from the blood. He was not over her degrading comments - and didn’t want her to think so for a moment - but if there was the possibility of seeing her out of her jeans once more, well...the choice was obvious. “I don’t believe I’m doing anything.”

Nami seemed to get excited at the sound of that, and through the gap he watched her eyes go wide and light up. “Oh, that’s great. I’m going to be spending an evening with a friend of mine...I think you’d love to meet her.”

Another woman? Niji hoped Nami couldn’t see the foolish smile on his face as he struggled again with his pants. They were still damp, and smelled like caramel, but they weren’t as hideously disgusting-looking and stained as before. Forcing his feet into each pant leg without removing his shoes, he shifted onto one leg, hitting his knee hard on the toilet paper holder. “And what sort of friend is this?”

“One that you’ll like,” Nami answered sweetly, pushing open the door to the stall. Niji, not realizing it had been unlatched the entire time, caught himself before falling backwards into the toilet. Nami grabbed him by the front of his shirt, twisting the ironed fabric into a tight fist as she pulled him close to her. Her mouth was on his swiftly, her tongue parting his lips and pressing itself inside. Niji kissed back, arms going around her as he felt slightly lightheaded and confused. Had she just been playing hard to get again, the entire fucking time? _Damn it._

Just as abruptly as she’d grabbed him to kiss him, she let go and pulled away, turning on her heel and heading back out the door. She paused long enough to give him a wink with those beautiful brown eyes and long lashes, her tongue sticking out. “I’ll be in touch. Don’t let it go to your head.”

And then she was gone, leaving Niji with his pants around his knees in a bathroom full of shitty Christmas music, eager to see where the weekend would take him.


End file.
